Hunt for the Palantíri RPG

[Regin Hardhammer]

When the storm had finally calmed somewhat, Marreth decided he had better check on the sailboats that were used to haul supplies across the bay. His ship was sturdy enough to take the repeated bashing from the violent waves and harsh wind, but the smaller vessels were flimsier and could use a thorough inspection. The crews search had been frustrating enough, Marreth thought; they did not need to exacerbate matters by losing their tools and rations.

As he walked down the path, Marreth began to reflect. What was he going to do about these new intruders? Surely, he reflected, the Elves’ arrival is not merely a coincidence.. They must mean to reach the stones before we do and take them for themselves. Then the urgency to find the Palantiri and give them to Castamir was that much greater, not to mention the danger posed by the patches of ice that were accumulating on the edges of the Bay. There was no way that he was going to let these pussyfooting Elves steal the stones from right under his nose. Despite all the obstacles standing in his way, a spirit of determination overflowed inside of him to complete this mission just as he had always done.

When he reached the sailing boats docked in a small harbor next to the main ship, Marreth thought he heard something moving in the bushes, but when he turned to see what it was, he saw nothing. The boats appeared to have weathered the storm fairly well and all of the masts, hulls, and rudders were intact. A few of the sails appeared to have slight tears in them that he would tell his men to fix as soon as he returned to the ship. As he turned to leave a dark, cloaked figure emerged from the side of the path where he had earlier heard the rustling.

Marreth drew his rapier and pointed it at this stranger. “Explain yourself!” he bellowed commandingly, “Who are you and what business do you have with me coming out of the shadows like this?”

The answer came swiftly. “I am a Lossoth who has some information that might be of interest to you. Have you seen these Elvish newcomers to the bay?” Marreth nodded. “They are also after those stones you seek.”

“I figured as much,” growled Marreth.

“Yes. But I can tell you where these fellows are going and what they will be doing. I can even tell you their plans so that you can lay ambushes and pounce on them. Are you interested?”

Marreth considered this strange offer and began to weigh his options. He did not even know who this Lossoth was. Although this seemed like an excellent opportunity to gain the upper hand on the Elves, Marreth realized that it could also be a trap. However, such an opportunity was too good to pass up. Reluctantly, Marreth nodded again and began to speak.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want? How do I know you speak the truth?”

“ I wish to take advantage of this opportunity to gain power. I do not take this power for myself, but for someone else who deserves it. The Corsairs are great and by providing you with vital information, I will be able to see something happen among my own people. I will need a goodly supply of gold and weapons.”

“Very well. That is possible,” said Marreth quietly. “Now tell me what you know.”

“They plan to search the great cave known as the Cave of the Dead. It is cold, dark, and very dangerous. There are parts that are extremely narrow and places where ground that seems solid slips under your feet. They will begin at sunrise tomorrow.”

“The Cave of the Dead” scoffed Marreth, “You lie. Even Elf vermin aren’t that stupid. That cave is so dangerous that even we dared not enter it in our search. If what your saying is true, then perhaps we should just wait for them to die there instead of going in after them. Entering the Cave of the Dead! Pure madness! Had that oafish Elf leader lost his mind?”

“No. I speak the truth. It was with great trepidation and fear that they decided to look there, but they seemed to think that it is the most likely place that they could find the Palantiri.”

“If you lie Snowmen, I swear I will have your head impaled on a pike! Do you hear me!” screamed Marreth. “I warn you,” ne continued in a calmer tone, “I shall meet you again out here in a couple of days if your information proves accurate. Watch for the flash of the lantern at sunset. Do not come to my ship, for I find it best that this be kept private for now. If you prove useful, I might just reward you. Now off with you.” With that, the Lossoth lumbered back into the bushes.

When Marreth returned to his ship, he gathered all of his crew for an announcement.
“Listen up mates, I have some new information here for all of you that will be very helpful in disposing of our new guests. The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them. I want advance scouts to go ahead and make sure the coast is clear before the rest of us go in.” That way, thought Marreth, we won’t get suck into any ambushes, even if it was a trap. “I don’t want any fighting yet, just spying. We have to know our enemy and evaluate them. I want to know how many they number and how many weapons they have. Maybe we can give them a little surprise. Any questions?”

Marreth always asked if there were any questions at the end, and there never were. He always told the crew exactly what they needed to know and they never dared to ask anything else, at least to his face. His officers would speak with him privately if they wished.

“Good. Everyone get a good night’s sleep and no getting drunk on rum. We all need to be fully alert tomorrow. I fear we have a rough day ahead of us.”

[piosenniel]

The ship was at rest, rocking a bit on the small waves that lapped toward the shore. Rôg thanked the fates for the respite from the normal motions of a ship on water and helped himself to a small, sweet treat that one of the Elves had put out for the gathered group. He was happy to see his old friend and guide, Bear, and motioned the man over with a wave of his mug held high in the air.

Bear’s normally ruddy face was rather pale as he came to stand by Rôg and his hands shook a bit as he accepted a mug of steaming tea from him. Rôg looked at him as he sipped his own drink, giving the man a chance to warm up before he spoke.

‘Something’s got the wind up you,’ commented Rôg as he poured the man a second cup of tea. ‘I’ve only see you like this once before – we were out on the ice fields far north of your village. You went very quiet, whispering to me.’ Bear nodded his head, the scene coming back to him. ‘I remember that,’ Bear said. ‘And I remember your own face when I told you that death itself was stalking us.’ The glimmer of a smile creased his face, then vanished. ‘Those were just the great Ice Bears who were trailing us that day . . . this is different.’ Bear shook his head in complete bafflement. ‘Why anyone would want to try a look in that cave is beyond me.’

‘Is it where you bury your dead?’ asked Rôg, trying to piece together the parts of the puzzle. ‘Do the spirits of your ancestors haunt the place?’

Bear snorted, choking on his tea at this question. ‘Spirits of the ancestors I could face. I’ve no bone to pick with them or they with me.’ He set his mug down on the table near him. ‘What I don’t want to hasten is joining those who have gone on! I’m far too young to be an ancestor! I’ve grown to relish my breathing if you catch my drift.’

‘Then what’s the problem?’ prodded Rôg.

Bear began to explain how treacherous the cave was. How the hill it was under sat on the edge of the bay and how the motion of the waters had eroded deeply into the interior of the hill. The opening was small, he went on, belying the enormity of the cave within. And much of it was half submerged beneath the waters, and more than half submerged when the tides came in at their fullest. It was dark within, of course, and fair piece of the way was iced – some places thinner than others. One could slip beneath the ice and not find a way back out. And worse yet the hill itself was of a crumbly sort of rock. Chunks were easily displaced within and without the cave, and if one were not careful, you could find yourself crushed by a rockslide. ‘In short,’ said Bear, summing up his opinion of the cave and of the Captain and Elder who had decided to attempt exploring it, ‘only fools would dare enter the cave!’

‘Well, the Captain’s no fool – but I’ll take your warning to heart. Perhaps we can talk this over in my cabin. Make some sort of plan to keep our group a little safer. What say you?’ Bear looked thoughtfully at Rôg, then spoke grimly. ‘The land here is unforgiving of the ignorant and the unprepared. I fear for us. We Lossoth will use all the skills that we have, but I cannot say it will be enough to keep us safe in the Great Cave.’

‘I have a few skills of my own,’ Rôg added, ‘and the Elves are not without some quick abilities. Let us work closely together and see how we fare.’ He rubbed his chin and shook his head at his next thought. ‘Far worse than the Great Cave will be the Corsairs should they retrieve those Stones the Captain spoke of. They are cruel men and will crush you as surely as any falling rock . . . the rock, though, will not relish your death as will they.’

Once Rôg had gotten Bear situated in his cabin, he begged off, saying he would return shortly. The Captain had asked to speak with him, and Rôg wanted to share what Bear had told him. He strode quickly down the companionway, passing Elves and Lossoth heading the opposite way to their quarters. In a few moments he stood before the Captain’s door. Rôg knocked lightly, calling in a low voice.

‘Luindal . . . are you there?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hearing a soft knock at the door accompanied by a familiar voice, Luindal glanced up from the piles of papers and maps he had been studying, which were still strewn haphazardly over his desk, "Come inside, Rôg. It's open. Please sit down." He gestured towards the seat opposite his own and noticed that his friend looked considerably better than the last time he'd seen him.

Luindal went immediately to the subject that was uppermost on both their minds. "The crew is concerned about tomorrow?"

"Yes, deeply concerned, and some are frightened, although they would never admit it." Rôg went on to explain some of the things Bear had shared with him concerning the cavern.

Luindal listened carefully to the description of the dangers and then suggested, "This Bear sounds as if he at least knows more than the rest of us. Perhaps he should be the one actually leading the party through the caverns as far as what path to take. I would gladly be led by someone who knows these parts better than I do."

"As far as the danger goes, he is certainly right. But Alahseey has told me that this is where the Elders feel the Stones would most likely be, half buried on the cave floor. Come have a look."

Luindal gestured towards two charts that were set side-by-side on his desk. "This one," the Elf explained, "is a copy of the map that Cirdan originally provided the ship that sailed to rescue Ardui. And here is the other that the Snowmen just gave me. See how much smaller the Bay is now. The Bay used to cover nearly all the caverns and hilly cliff, with only the topmost peak showing above the waterline. All that would have been iced over in early spring and it is possible that a ship could have been hurled against the cliffs and crushed.

The shape of the Bay is different today: the caverns are at the edge of the shore. They are relatively dry at low tide, especially with the drought we've had the past two years. Only when high tide occurs do large parts of the tunnels become flooded. The most important thing for us is to get in and out fairly quickly, or else we risk the danger of drowning, especially if the weather outside turns bad."


"I've tried to take every precaution I could think of. I am advising the men to wear small packs about their waist with food and water and to carry at least two torches and a rope. No packs on the back since these could catch on the low ceilings in the tunnels. We'll make sure to have flints in case the torches are gutted. And everyone will be wearing a metal helmet to protect their heads. I also understand that Freyn has some basic skills with healing. I've asked him to bring along his kit with herbs and splints should anything go wrong. I'll be carrying some Elvish herbs myself, but I think that the Snowmen's local remedies are probably better suited for the kind of things that might happen in a place like this."

"If you or Bear have any other ideas, I'd like to hear them as I am certainly no expert on caves."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rôg

‘Hmmm . . . I don’t think Bear will have any suggestions for you at present. By this time, he should be fast asleep. Poor felllow was as nervous as a sand rat catching sight of an owl shadow.’ Luindal’s brows went up at these last two disparate pieces of information. ‘And . . .?’ the Elf queried.

‘And . . . well . . . I gave him a nice strong cup of valerian tea with comfrey and some honey. Calmed him right down.’ Rôg glanced up at Luindal and shrugged his shoulders. ‘He was snoring, in fact, by the time I left the room.’

Rôg looked at the crudely drawn map that the Captain had made of the area they would be exploring when the morning came. It was a composite of the old elven map and the one the Lossoth had provided. ‘We should keep in close contact with each other in the caves. I had thought that perhaps I could keep the groups informed of each other’s presence. What do you think? I can use one of my little winged forms as needed.’

Luindal nodded his head at the suggestion. ‘I’ll tell the Lossoth and Elves that you’ll be doing this tomorrow just before we leave the ship.’ He grinned for a split second at Rôg. ‘Wouldn’t want to find one of them roasting the southron on a stick as a tasty tidbit for dinner.’

The bells that marked the beginning of the late night watch rung above, their soft tones carrying down the companion-way to alert those who would be next on duty. ‘I should take my leave of you,’ said Rôg. ‘The bells to wake us for tomorrow’s venture will ring all too soon.’ He paused at the entry way. ‘I did have some interesting thoughts which might prove useful whilst I was bent over the ship’s railing and observing the passage of the ship through the sea. I doubt we’ll need to implement any of them in the cave. But should that search prove fruitless and we have to consider searching beneath the waters of the bay, then I think they might aid us. Let me think on them a little more before I present them to you.’

The Elf turned back to his consideration of the maps as Rôg closed the door firmly behind him.

[Imladris]

Jarlyne

Jarlyne rolled his eyes and cocked his brows as Marreth finished his little speech. Short and to the point as always, which was the he liked it. As the sailors filed out, Jynne slinking along after them like a lingering shadow, he rounded on Marreth and said, "I do not believe this to be a good idea."

Marreth looked at him and said, "And why is that?"

Drat him. He could be so infuriating at times. "I would suppose that it is called the Cave of the Dead for a reason." He paused. "I am not a coward but I would prefer to keep my life. I have already had contact with the dead --" he shuddered, remember the eery wind of ice that had swept through him.

Marreth's face had gone tight and pale, and Jarlyne thought he could hear his teeth grind. He should not have mentioned their first experience with the dead...it was not a good thing to bring up sore subjects about the loss of one's father. He peered quickly at Marreth and then flicked them away, staring resolutely out the window.

"We must find the Stones," Marreth said shortly.

"Fine. If you want to join part of the reason why the cave is called The Cave of the Dead that is fine by me," Jarlyne said waspishly. "I suppose it's better to die this way instead of growing old and feeble."

~~~~~~~~~~

Jynne

His gangly legs straddling the yard, a needle with a tail of leather clenched between his yellowed teeth, Jynne examined the main topsail, fingering the cloth the wind had ripped in his fierce fury. He began to sew the tear together. His stitches were clumsy but that did not matter. An ill patched sail was better than a ripped sail that would betray them when the next storm swooped down upon them.

Shifting his eyes from his work, he froze when he saw Marreth stride down toward their boats and then, furthermore, stop to speak with one of those Snowmen. Yet, peering as closely as he could, Jynne could not recognize them.

He narrowed his eyes, creeping along the yard, letting the needle dangle from the sail.

What were they doing, what were they speaking about under the hiding of the clear sun as the other sailers worked to mend the ship. What esoteric passed between them?

Soon Marreth returned, a grim look upon his face. At his call for the crew, Jynne slipped down the mast, creeping in the feeble shadows toward the cabin.

Crouching in the corner, he peered at the captain and his faithful friend under his brows. The Caves of the Dead. A thin smile cracked his face. The Stones, if they did indeed exist, would be there more than likely.

As he slinked behind the others, his eyes flitted toward the bushes on the shore. What had the two been talking about?

[Lalwendë]

Tarn

As it dawned on Tarn that there was an elven ship heading for the shore, he instinctively reached inside his battered leather coat, feeling for the pocket he had roughly sewn into it, to hold his knives. They were still there. He did not trust elves. He did not trust anyone, but elves less than most, even though he had never met one. His grandfather had told him the old stories, and had told him not to trust anyone who cannot die. “It is not the way of things” he had said.

Tarn screwed up his eyes against the wind, straining to pick out the movements of the elven ship, working out whether it would attempt to come to shore nearby. He wanted to see what would happen, but he did not want to be seen himself. He bent down to the seals, still bobbing around in the water at his feet, and made a peculiar clicking noise. The sleek heads nodded farewell as one and disappeared under the water as they swam away.

“We’re going back,” he said to Thynne, but the lad did not move. “Shift it, come on.” snapped Tarn. Still the boy stared out to sea at the ship. Tarn was losing his patience and snatched the boy’s collar. “Did you hear me?” he said, bending down and staring into the lad’s eyes. Thynne jumped and started to run back to the stone hut near the cliffs, fearful that Tarn would catch up with him and punish him. He did not dare ask Tarn about the strange ship, and whether it was more Corsairs arriving.

***

Thynne’s father had left the warmth of the hut. “He’s probably gone in search of more ale, so you may as well make yourself useful while I go out again, and if you do what I want, then you might get some of that stew” said Tarn, pointing at a large cooking pot next to the hearth. “But mark me, I know exactly how many pieces of Reindeer meat there are in that pot and if I get back and your work isn’t done, and you’ve eaten, then you’ll see trouble.”

Tarn left the lad a pile of fishing nets to be mended, and went back outside. From his storehouse next door he took a pair of snow shoes and his harpoon, strapping them to his back, in case he might need them. He then covered his hands with the dust from a piece of chalk and wiped the powder around his face, whitening it. He pulled his wolfskin cloak tightly around his shoulders, securing it at the waist with a crude leather belt, and covered his head with a white fur hood. Watching through a crack in the door, Thynne found it hard to make Tarn out against the rocks as he strode away.

***

Some hours later, Tarn remained on watch from behind the cairn of granite he used as a vantage point over the bay. The weather had now subsided, and as often happens after a storm, the air was bright and he had a clear view of what was going on below. He could even smell the food cooking.

Tarn had seen the Lossoth boats making for the elven ship and watched as they boarded. He felt a knot of anger in his stomach and wished he could hear what was being said. He supposed some kind of plot was afoot and guessed that the Corsairs might have seen this and come up with a plan themselves. Moving from his hiding place he edged down the scree slope which fell away from the cairn and found his way to the path which ran down the cliffs. Stopping at the bottom of the slope, he turned the wolfskin cloak and the hood inside out, and spitting on his gloves, wiped them across his face to remove the chalk. He was determined to find out what was happening and thought he might hear something interesting close to the Corsair ship.

[Rinfanawen]

Diera stood calmly, yet eagerly as well as she listened intently to Marreth's speech. The violent storm halted for the moment. Only the lingering sound of crashing waves against a battered ship could be heard, alongside her captain's powerful voice.

“The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them,” said Marreth during his brief address to the crew.

Splendid... Diera thought. She could feel her fingers tighten with excitement as she thought of the pleasures of spying on a group of Elves. The most despicable creatures in Middle Earth, they are: she thought in hatred. so powerful and yet, so foolish.

“This is going to be fun,” Diera whispered to her fellow shipmate, Doyal, who stood beside her. Doyal nodded in agreement and quickly turned his attention back to Marreth. Diera did the same. The speech ended quite abruptly, as did most of Marreth’s speeches, and the crew dismissed throughout the ship. Diera stood for a while on deck thinking of the future plans. The thought of entering the Cave of the Dead chilled her bones, for she much despised the thought of stepping foot on that land again, but into a cave? She shuttered at the thought. Nevertheless, she was determined to get to the Palantiri first.

Diera was silent as she turned towards the shore. The Elven ship was within her vision, but she tried to forbid herself from looking at it. Each time she looked upon the curved formations and graceful details of the enemy vessel, she longed more and more for it to be the next day...the day the Elves go in the cave. She needed to be ready. She had to make sure that nothing would go wrong, that their plan would continue without a flaw.

Suddenly she was pulled from her concentrated state of mind by a tug on her sleeve. “Diera, you are needed on the starboard side,” said Doyal.

Diera nodded and began to follow Doyal across the ship, but as she did, she heard an interesting conversation taking place nearby. She could not see whom the voices belonged to. The only sight was a bit of swaying white fur from a coat of some sort above a few barrels that had been stacked on the deck. A mischievous smile crossed Diera’s face. The voices continued, and Diera made her way towards the barrels.

The voices clearly belonged to her captain and co-officer, Jarlyn. Diera bent just low enough behind the barrels so she could peer through the small gaps between them, without being seen herself. She listened carefully to the words being spoken.

“I am not a coward but I would prefer to keep my life,” said Jarlyn to Marreth. “I have already had contact with the dead—”

The words were cut off, and Diera new the reason. Clearly, Jarlyn opposed the idea of going into the cave, and who wouldn’t? Such a dreadful place it was. Any being in their right mind would not even consider entering the Cave of the Dead. The conversation continued.

“We must find the Stones,” Marreth said shortly.

”Fine. If you want to join part of the reason why the cave is called The Cave of the Dead that is fine by me,” Jarlyn said waspishly. “I suppose it's better to die this way instead of growing old and feeble.”

Ha! thought Diera. That’s what he thinks! I would much rather die old and feeble, as long as I was old and feeble aboard a ship...but to die in the Cave of the Dead? That would be horrible! It would be terrible! It would be...well, if it happens, then I guess it happens. Either way, we must get to those stones before the Elves lay their filthy hands on them. Suddenly a horrendous thought entered her mind. Who would be going ashore to spy on them? Surely, he would not choose me, Diera thought in almost complete confidence. Already I have suffered enough by being placed on land, but... She closed her eyes in disgust. If I must, if need calls for me to enter the cave, then so be it.

Seeing that the overheard conversation was coming to an end, Diera quickly left her position on the ground and made her way to the Starboard side of the ship. She would see Marreth about placement orders at another time.

[Kitanna]

Nilak

The storm had died down somewhat and the captain had called everyone on deck. Nilak and Sernir stood on the boat deck listening to Marreth. "The Elves plan on searching the Cave of the Dead tomorrow at sunrise for the Palantiri and we’ll be waiting for them." Sernir nodded in approval at this.

Nilak personally had nothing against these elven intruders, but if they robbed him of any amount of treasure he would make it a personal thing. However Nilak was not prepared to go into the Cave of the Dead. That place meant doom for anyone who dared to enter.

"Maybe we can give them a little surprise. Any questions?” No one said anything. It was usually better not to ask questions about these things. However in the back of Nilak's mind he thought, what was so important about these Stones that the Corsairs and Elves were willing to lose everything?

Sernir leaned over and spoke to Nilak, "Be prepared for an early start tomorrow, Lossoth. You are going into that cave."

"Some places get their names for a reason. I think the Cave of the Dead is one of those places." Nilak cast a spiteful glance over to Sernir. Maybe you should go into the cave, Corsair, he thought.

"You're not paid to think." Sernir spat back. "You're paid to find those stones and bring them back to me. Now go get some rest, you'll be worthless if you're tired tomorrow."

Nilak wanted to stay and argue, but he knew Sernir was right. He nodded to Sernir and headed off to get a good night's sleep. He would need as much energy as possible for the next day.

[Lalwendë]

Tarn

The pathway down to where the Corsairs had moored their great ship was cut closely into the cliffs and was slippery in places, but Tarn knew the dangers well, and he passed down the steps as swiftly and silently as an otter. As he neared the bottom, he saw the Captain, Marreth, boarding the ship and drew himself back against the cliff face, where he was hid in a crack of the dark, slimy rock. He wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t want to be drawn into anything against his will.

The Captain was gathering the crew together on the deck, and to his surprise, Tarn spotted Nilak among them. His eyes narrowed. Nilak was as much a scoundrel as he was, and they would normally have kept out of the way of each other, but they had crossed paths often lately, as both had become involved with the Corsairs. Nilak was a strong man who intimidated the Lossoth with his reputation as a ship wrecker, and he had a great thirst for wealth. Tarn admired his nerve, but he would never have admitted this. Tarn’s reputation was built on his disdainful manner which led him to think he could get away with almost anything, and there were some Lossoth who dared not even make eye contact with this large, arrogant man. Nilak was one of those who did dare.

“What is that limpet doing here?” hissed Tarn to himself. Over the crashing of the waves, he couldn’t quite make out what the Captain was saying, but whatever it was, it did not take him long, and the crew turned away with uncertain looks on their faces. He had only made out the words “elves”, “spying” and “enemy”. As he puzzled over this he spotted Nilak leaving the ship, and drawing one of his knives into his sleeve, he stepped out onto the path.

“There’s a little mission to do with these elves going ahead I gather, Nilak,” he said, raising his eyebrows. If Nilak was taken aback by Tarn suddenly materialising from the cliffs, he did not show it. Tarn’s plan had worked, and instead of attacking or ignoring him, Nilak had motioned him to follow. As they walked back, Nilak had told Tarn about the elves’ plan to search the House of the Dead, which had made Tarn snort with sarcastic laughter. But when Tarn heard that the Corsairs were planning to go down there and spy on the elves he stopped smiling. Nilak told him that he was going down there himself, at first light, and Tarn did not say anything for some time.

As they neared the path which led to Tarn’s hut, he had decided. “I’m coming along with you. I’m not afraid of that place. It’s only an old man’s story. A lie. There has to be something in there to make up something like that to keep us out.” He did not really believe what he was saying, but he wanted to convince himself that he did, for he was determined to find out what would happen, and determined not to let anything prevent him from finding this treasure. At the crossroads they parted, and agreed to meet up by the Corsair ship at daybreak, to join in the spying mission. Whatever that would entail, neither knew, and neither dared say.

Tarn entered the stone hut to find Thynne asleep, the fire down to its embers and only half the nets mended. He did not check the pot to see if Thynne had eaten, as he had now forgotten his threat, but it was no matter, as he was angry enough about the unmended nets. He angrily piled wood into the hearth, and as he did so a thought formed in his mind. The lad could be useful if any of the spying came to involve entering the caves, and it would also be his punishment. Tarn nodded to himself spitefully, and instead of waking the lad, left him asleep, and climbed up the ladder to his own bed in the loft, taking the pot of stew with him.